As soon as I walk into Paraty I realise a new found appreciation for buildings. The streets are paved with quaint little white-wash houses with slate rooves and small but perfectly formed verandas.

The streets are wide and cobbled. But they are very different from your standard coronation street style cobbles. They are mismatched and higgledy.

The door and windows of the houses are framed with brightly coloured paint. Each house has a different colour. They are both unique and uniform in there look and it works perfectly.

The members of the community sidle past each other exchanging the occasional hello. Every so often a horse and cart clip-clops by across the cobbles and it almost feels orchestrated.

Winding down to the beach and across the bridge the sultry rythms of the beach waft towards you. We arrive, a stroll down to the beach is most enjoyable. To see those azure shores trimmed with golden sands only gazed at from the truck is amazing.

The group chat about their world-wide experiences, countries visited, length of stints and epic journeys. I sit with no contributions but a keen ear. Cervesas by the beach, not a bad way to start a trip.